Page 46 of How to Best a Marquess

She was still finding it hard to believe that Hugh hadn’t intended to follow her today. When it came to him, she didn’t believe in luck or coincidence.

“Shouldn’t you be at the club working on your endeavors?” she asked. “Time is passing.”

“I’m not concerned. Everything is coming along nicely. So nicely that I decided not to summon my carriage this afternoon, but take a pleasant stroll.”

She looked skyward, gaze roving over the gathering gray clouds overhead. “A pleasant stroll? The sky is darkening. It looks as if it will rain any—”

A fat raindrop landed on the tip of her nose. It was followed by a few more, then the sky opened up.

“Oh!” she cried out.

“Come quick!”

He took her hand and started to jog. She was right beside him. Within seconds, they were drenched. Clouds shifted to cover the sun, and it appeared dark as dusk. He led her beneath a footbridge over a creek for shelter. Rain pounded the bridge above them.

Her alpaca dress lay against her skin like a cold, wet blanket. She began to shiver, and gooseflesh rose on her arms.

Hugh’s brow creased in concern. “You’re freezing.”

She shook her head, her teeth chattering. She didn’t want his help, but wanted to return home, order a hot bath, and then change into dry, warm clothes. “I’ll be fine.”

“Stop being stubborn.” He pulled her into his arms and held her close.

She opened her mouth to protest, then shut it. He was blessedly warm and she was shivering. He smelled of shaving soap and his own unique male essence.

He rested his chin atop her head. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

She stiffened and made a weak attempt of pulling away. His arms tightened like bands of steel, holding her close. “You’ve been guilty of the same,” she countered.

His chest rumbled with laugher. “Ah, you’ve been watching me, haven’t you?”

Her hands were pressed against his chest. Unable to move, she felt his heartbeat through the broadcloth. His cheek brushed hers and more warmth rushed through her—a warmth that not only heated her skin, but languorously seeped into her limbs. “I have not. I just noticed. You’re the one who had initially mentioned an invisible rope binding us, then disappeared.”

“You’re right. I’ve been trying to keep my distance.”

She pulled back to look into his eyes. He allowed the infraction, but nothing more. She shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t care, but nonetheless, the question slipped from her lips. “Why?”

His eyes flared a glittering green, something shockingly possessive roaring to life in his gaze. “Because I’ve enjoyed our kisses far too much. You are a distraction, Ellie.”

She shouldn’t be flattered, but she was. Heaven help her, she was. All along, she had thought he was the distraction.

A crack of lightning flashed across the sky.

She jumped. “Everyone has fled. We should not be alone together.” The park looked gray, dreary, and abandoned. The riders had long since ridden away. The strolling couples had fled to their waiting carriages or nearby homes. Even the tall trees seemed faded and washed out as the oncoming mist bled into the park.

They were alone, caught beneath a footbridge in the middle of an afternoon rainstorm.

She glanced up at Hugh to find him staring at her. Her gaze lowered to his mouth. Oh God. She wanted to kiss him again. What was wrong with her?

She was drenched, her gown indecently clinging to her body, and pressed against him. He was just as soaked, only he wasn’t cold, but hot. She was achingly aware of every inch of contact.

“Deveril?” she asked, her voice sounding weak to her own ears.

“It’s Hugh. Call me Hugh like you used to years ago.”

Unbidden memories returned in a rush. His striking features looked even better now. His wet hair clung to him, and his lashes—long and dark—glistened from the rain.

How was it he appeared more attractive, while she must look a mess? She could only imagine what her sodden and tangled curls looked like. It wasn’t fair.